


Scars of Craftsmanship

by OiBoiHumerus



Series: OiBoiHumerus's TF2 Zombie Apocalypse AU [1]
Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Canon - Comics, Engie and Sniper are in love they just don't know it for another three months, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, Pain, References and quotes the TF2 comics, Scars, Trans Male Character, heh
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-10
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-17 02:21:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29959512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OiBoiHumerus/pseuds/OiBoiHumerus
Summary: Scars are said to change a person. Scars from battle, both neat and crafted or sloppy and painful. Two mercenaries have gained some scars, forever changing them. These are their stories.DUN DUN(These oneshots take place a long time before the events of even the Prequel of Handle of Things, hence why it gets its own work. The purposes of these works are to establish some characterization, pre-established relationships, and headcanons.)Dedicated to PixelPrincessFluffy, who listens to one too many of my TF2 rants. Talking about the two Snipers' different sets of scars inspired this work.
Relationships: BLU Sniper/BLU Spy, Sniper/Spy (Team Fortress 2)
Series: OiBoiHumerus's TF2 Zombie Apocalypse AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2030614





	Scars of Craftsmanship

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PixelPrincessFluffy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PixelPrincessFluffy/gifts).



> This chapter features two of the BLU mercenaries. The BLU mercs use different class names in Handle of Things, which will carry over to this work.
> 
> Scoper = BLU Sniper  
> Peeker = BLU Peeker

Scoper stepped out of the shower in a t-shirt and some jammy pants. On the couch sat Peeker, who wore a bathrobe and some slippers. 

"Hey, Peeker."

"Hello, Scoper." Peeker scooted over and patted the seat. "Sit with me?"

Scoper sat down on the couch with Peeker and snuggled up to him. Small comfy smiles crossed their faces.

"I've something to show you," Scoper said.

Scoper slightly pulled over the collar of his shirt to reveal a rather new scar on his shoulder.

"What's this?" Peeker said, reaching out to run his finger along the imperfectly healed skin.

"Trickstab wound. Spy jumped over my shoulder and stabbed me."

Scoper sounded rather proud of himself. Peeker, on the other hand, was not amused.

"Scoper..." Peeker started. "This is the third time this week that you've shown me a new scar from Spy killing you. Please stop getting killed."

"I don't know how not to, he's getting better at his work every day. Ever since that one encounter, I've just... I dunno, let him?"

Peeker remembered that. It was Interviews Week, and so on the day of Spy's interview, the RED tried extra hard with every move he made. Spy raided Scoper's nest, scaring him badly and wounding him three times before ultimately stabbing him directly in his spine, causing Scoper to be shocked to the point of being deemed unable to work for a week. While Peeker wasn't there when it happened, he soon found out when he went to check on him. Scoper's limp body, laying on the floor, waiting for respawn.

"You cannot be what Outpost calls a pushover, Scoper. Soon I'll be watching him push you from a three-story building on a daily basis."

"Listen, Peeker, I know you want me to try harder not to get killed by him, but that one time... during Interviews Week... I tried my hardest not to get killed. I even  _ heard _ him coming and he still slashed me really good."

"I'm aware of that, Scoper, but I hate seeing you get killed so many times... especially like that and particularly by my RED counterpart."

"Well, I'm really only good at using the rifle. I don't know any other weapons like my rifle that would allow me to be closer to the front..."

Peeker cocked a brow. Scoper's brows, on the other hand, furrowed.

Never had something clicked in Scoper's head so quickly.

"Peeker, no. I'm not using the dart rifle. It needs a... certain kind of ammo that I don't wanna deal with."

"Could you be more specific?"

"The darts have Jarate in them..."

"Last I checked, the dart gun's darts have  _ synthetic _ Jarate in them. It's not real Jarate."

"Oh."

"But you are  _ really _ good at using rifles. I think if you were to use the dart gun, you would be able to join us closer to the front lines so you wouldn't need to be in your nest anymore."

"But I... kinda need the nest. The front lines are loud and it gets hectic."

"That is true, but you would be much better off if our team was easily able to find you, especially Doctor."

"Peeker... I'm alright. I appreciate all the advice you're giving me, but it's not that easy for me to just pick up another weapon and change what I'm doing--"

"Take off your shirt."

"...What?"

"I know how you died, you were bleeding from your side that day as well. Take off your shirt."

"Peeker..."

Peeker stared into Scoper's eyes, brows raised.

Scoper sighed. Slowly, he removed his shirt and set it down on the couch beside him. His scars lay bare. He looked nervous, and his knee gently but quickly bounced, but for once, Peeker couldn't tell why.

"I worry about you so much, Scoper. Yes, scars show the general wear and tear of life, especially life in this petty war for seemingly worthless ground-up stones. But you, Scoper, you let Spy throw you around like you're a ragdoll. And that makes me upset.  _ You let him hurt you _ ."

"Peeker--"

"I'm not finished yet. I know you see these scars on a daily basis. Everyone else can see the scar here." Peeker reaches out to run his thumb along the scar on the side of Scoper's face. "This one killed me to see when Doctor and I brought you over to Medbay."

Scoper had been covering his side with his arms. Peeker noticed this and set them aside.

"Seeing the scar on the side of your face made me realize that there might be some scarring elsewhere, and as we sit here right now I realize that my suspicions were correct."

Peeker traced these scars, too, before stopping just under Scoper's chest.

There were other scars. Unlike the scars from every time Spy had stabbed Scoper ever, these ones sat directly under Scoper's pecs, healed neatly and cleanly, almost as if by design. If you weren't paying attention, you wouldn't notice them.

Peeker started tracing these scars, too, out of curiosity. Scoper reached up to swat Peeker's hand away, but Peeker beat Scoper to the game and swatted Scoper's hand instead.

"Peeker, stop touching me..."

Peeker shushed him.

Peeker could sense Scoper getting nervous. Peeker felt Scoper's heart beating faster. Scoper's breathing became quiet, as if he wasn't breathing at all.

That's when Peeker realized that those scars, the ones on Scoper's chest, were not meant for him to see. Scoper must have been worrying about what Peeker thought about this.

So Peeker told the truth.

"These scars..." Peeker said, moving to trace the symmetrical scar on the other side. "The craftsmanship here is marvelous--"

Peeker was interrupted by a small cry from Scoper. Peeker looked up from the scars to find tears streaming down Scoper's face.

"Scoper... You're bothered by me finding these scars?"

Scoper nodded.

Wordlessly, Peeker wrapped his arms around Scoper and held him close.

"You weren't supposed to see them..." Scoper said, voice wavering. "No one was--"

Peeker shushed him once more, but gently this time. He ran his fingers through Scoper's hair.

"You are incredibly strong, Scoper. And the scars I found today are evidence of that."

Scoper buried his face into Peeker's shoulder, hugging him back.

"I love you more than I could possibly express. Nothing can change that. Not even these scars."

It was then that Scoper started crying again, tightly embracing Peeker without letting go. More tears came and seeped into Peeker's bathrobe. Small whimpers released pent-up fears. Occasionally, Scoper would murmur something indistinctly, and Peeker would whisper soothing things to him.

After about ten minutes, Scoper's crying had died down, along with his energy. He had let himself lean onto Peeker completely, and looked very relieved and relaxed.

"I love you," Peeker whispered.

Scoper was possibly a little  _ too _ relaxed, as he gave a tired grunt in response. He turned his head, now resting the side of his head on Peeker's shoulder, and his eyes were nearly closed. His gaze reached a place beyond the walls of the room.

Peeker smiled a little, leaning back on the couch and taking Scoper with him. Scoper instantly managed to squeeze himself in between the back of the couch and Peeker's side. Peeker rested an arm atop Scoper, who dozed off rather quickly.

Basking in the silence, Peeker fell asleep beside his snoozing lover.


End file.
